To my extroverted friends who can talk about their feelings during this pandemic, my hat is off to you. For the introverts like myself and my son, we have no choice but to work things out in our dreams. This from my son this week:
I’ve blabbed endlessly in prior blog posts about my crippling insomnia. It comes and goes but mostly it comes. Lately though, I’ve been dreaming. I think it’s God’s way of saying, “I will let you sleep so you don’t kill your self because, frankly, there’s a petition going around to keep you out of Heaven”.
I woke the other morning asking The Husband, “What are the rest of the words to that Crystal Pig song?” He’s learned to not immediately call me out as mad so instead handled me like I rode the little bus, “Can you hum a few notes?” It took some wrangling but we finally realized the song was Cisco Kid by Willie Nelson. But doesn’t the mind boggle? Why did I dream about Cisco Kid song in the first place?
No gatherings, no gym, no bars…wait, no, that can’t be it. My life in quarantine looks oddly the same as it always has. Some say boring.
This week’s dream had The Husband trying to tape up a fart. It was coming out of an air vent and you could actually see it’s shape so he was trying to tape it to contain it. In the dream it seemed very much like a plausible idea, in my wakened state I had to go with, “What the actual f**k?”
Listen, I’m no Freud but the fart dream isn’t hard to figure. The fart, the real fart, can’t be seen but can be devastating. It represents COVID-19. The attempt to tape it is farcical but humans have to feel like they’re doing something to stave this off. The tape is us washing our veggies with soap and making face masks from old socks and pipe cleaner (just me?)
My son’s dream about Warren Buffet: Can love sustain us if our economy is derailed and everyone’s life savings (except Warnie, my love) is wiped out?
Crystal Pig? I’m no Freud.
Stay well friends and share with me your mad COVID-19 dreams.